Awesome!!

I live in a unit block, 3 stories, 4 units on my side, 4 on the other. It's fantastic. If I get the timing right I can hear next door taking a piss while I brush my teeth. The new woman upstairs is generous enough to let us all hear her conversations; she likes to stand on the balcony while talking on the phone. I always know when she's taking a seat at her dining table; the sound of a metal chair dragging along tiles vibrates through the floor like a lullaby. Oh and her Friday night drinks with friends means free acoustic karaoke concerts, they should take the act on the road they are that good.

There are more units out the back of us, the one directly behind us has a baby too, he has a future in politics, and I can tell that by his persistence and volume at 3am. Again, it's awesome.

We're also blessed with the perfect mother living across the road in her 4 bedroom house with aircon and a large fully fenced yard courtesy of the government. Her 6 kids, under 9, are wonderfully behaved, you know because mum is always voicing her pleasure loudly at all times of the day and night. Her polite, well articulated praise of her darling children is music to my ears. They are so good that the police visit regularly, just to compliment her on her parenting skills, and the admirable lifestyle choices made by her “it’s complicated” partner. I love it when the kids remove my door bell and try to check my mail for me, a lock on the letter box is no deterrent for their random acts of kindness.

The road here is a playground, a soccer oval, cricket pitch and a skate park. It’s a pretty busy suburban street and naturally all the drivers are cautious and considerate of the unmonitored 4 year olds playing in their path.

Ah fuck it, this is too hard. I fucking hate my street. The occupants are either feral, grumpy, old, paranoid or all of the above. They are inconsiderate, loud and just plain fucked in the head. We have ONE good neighbour but she’s moving soon, wonder why?

You know what else is awesome? Hearing a mother tell her kids to “fuck off you pathetic fucking c*nt, how many fucking times do I have to tell you I don’t care?”. I love it, I know the police link phone number off by heart and grin like a Cheshire fucking cat when that police car pulls up out the front of her house.

Can’t wait until I meet that rich 80 year old love of my life so I can move into his 16 bedroom mansion in the country and can look down my fat button nose at “those” people.

(note – I don’t have to explain that I’m not always serious when making statements like the above do I? In hindsight a 95 year old man would be better, he won’t last as long.)